


The Brooker 202

by Pony Girl (Jackjunkie)



Category: Alias Smith and Jones, Maverick - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-16 15:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackjunkie/pseuds/Pony%20Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heyes and Curry decide to retrieve the safe they lost just before they made their amnesty deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Brooker 202

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Just You, Me and the Governor #6.

Kid Curry lay on his belly in the mud. It was dirty, it was  
oozy, it was icy cold, and the only thing wetter was the rain  
pelting down on his back. To top off his sorry state, he was  
being hunted by a posse whose sole aim was to make him sorrier  
still. All in all, he'd had better days.

Hannibal Heyes squelched over from his lookout post. "All  
clear," he reported cheerfully. "We can thank the weather we  
weren't spotted--an Apache couldn't follow a trail in this. I  
don't think they'll have the stomach to even keep trying much  
longer."

The Kid pushed himself out of the mud. Not that it was much  
of an improvement to his condition. Standing up he was just as  
wet and just as cold and only slightly less mucky. "Heyes, _you_  
can thank the weather. I'm thinking that a warm bed in a dry  
jail don't sound too bad right now."

"Now, is that any way to talk? After we outfoxed a bunch o'  
lawmen gunnin' for us? We can breathe easy, Kid, and you'll be  
in a nice, warm hotel before you know it."

"Heyes, don't try to cheer me up. I don't _wanna_ be cheered  
up. I just wanna enjoy bein' miserable in peace."

Heyes just grinned as they mounted up. His cousin's sour  
mood wasn't going to spoil the exhilaration he was feeling  
following their close call. Not even a hurricane would get him  
down tonight.

*****

Unfortunately, the gentlemen in the posse weren't the only  
ones having a hard time sticking to a trail in that mess. There  
was no way the Kid was going to see a hotel room that night.

They managed to find shelter from the rain at least under an  
overhang against a cliff. The ground was rocky and comparatively  
dry. Heyes blessed their good fortune; the Kid just grunted and  
went to sleep.

He was drifting in a sea of warm, sudsy water and sniffing  
in the pleasant aroma of a steak cooking somewhere off to his  
left. He was just feeling about ready to go track it down, when  
he was wrenched back to reality by a kick against his boot.

"Wha'? What's wrong?" He grabbed for his gun and blinked  
at Heyes. His friend didn't look the least alarmed.

"Everything's fine. I got an idea is all."

The Kid let his gun arm drop. "It can't be morning yet. I  
was just getting started on that dream."

"No, it ain't morning. But I do my best thinkin' at night,  
remember? I knew you'd want to hear this." He sounded  
completely sure of Curry's interest.

"Heyes," the tired and less than pleased Curry started to  
object, then stopped. There was no use arguin' with him when he  
got like this. Better to let him talk it out. "Okay, let's hear  
it."

"Well, it started with your idea really. You know how  
you've been on at me to pay Lom a visit."

"Yeah, the last couple of contacts we had got us nowhere.   
Your silver tongue just don't work over the telegraph, Heyes.   
You got to talk to him in person. Make him see how hard we've  
been working for that amnesty, and it's time he talked to the  
governor again."

"Yeah, but like I said, Kid, talkin' won't do no good if it  
don't tell him anything new. But what if we took him something  
more substantial than just talk? What if, say, we made good on a  
train robbery? What if," and here Heyes paused and looked off  
into the air, kind of as if he were envisioning his idea there  
and admiring it. "What if," he continued, "we took him fifty  
thousand dollars?" He sat back and gazed at the Kid expectantly.

Ordinarily the Kid regarded Heyes' brain with the highest  
respect, but at the moment he was having trouble remembering why.   
"That ain't thinkin', Heyes, that's dreamin'! Where are we going  
to get fifty thousand dollars?"

"We get it right where we left it, Kid, conveniently in the  
neighborhood of Porterville, as it happens."

"Where we left it? What...? Oh...oh no." Light was  
beginning to dawn. "You don't mean...not the Brooker 202?"

"Exactly. The Brooker 202." Heyes seemed to feel that  
should answer all questions. Curry was just getting started.

"Heyes, the last time we saw that safe it splashed into a  
pond and sank straight to the bottom. If we couldn't find it  
right after it happened, what makes you think we could after all  
this time? Not to mention the little problem of getting it  
open." Heyes hadn't been able to trigger the tumblers. Dynamite  
hadn't worked. Neither had dropping it off a mountain. Twice.

"Kid, the only reason we had so much trouble with that safe  
was time. There was a posse chasin' us. I didn't have time to  
crack it. We didn't have time to get more dynamite after Kyle  
got the fuse wet. We didn't have time to keep divin' in the  
water to search for it. And we kind of got sidetracked right  
after that by our amnesty deal. But if we go back there now, we  
got all the time we want and without no posse comin' sniffin' at  
our heels. It's just waitin' there for the taking."

"That's another thing. How do you know it's still waitin'  
there? It's been months since the robbery. Wheat and the boys  
or anyone else coulda gone back and got it."

"Kid, in the first place, nobody 'sides us and the boys knew  
it was there. If anyone'd salvaged it by accident we'da heard  
about it, 'cause that kind o' find would be news. We've run into  
Wheat and the boys a few times since then, and I don't think they  
coulda resisted braggin' about it if they'd got hold of it. I'm  
sure they've given it up for lost. No, it's gotta still be  
there."

The Kid had run out of objections. As he looked at all the  
angles, it was borne in upon him that Heyes' brain had done it  
again after all.

"Heyes," he said, "you've done it again. When we sashay  
into Lom's office with that money, he's just gotta sit up and  
take notice and make the governor do the same. Fifty thousand  
dollars is substantial alright--why, that's more than the rewards  
out on us! He's just gotta come through with our amnesty." The  
Kid was thoroughly awake now.

"Glad you see it that way, Kid, but don't go getting all  
worked up over it now. It's the middle of the night. Whyn't you  
get some sleep?" Heyes settled down, serenely oblivious to the  
Kid's sputtering response.

*****

Come morning, the weather had cleared up and they had no  
trouble finding their way back to civilization. After a hot bath  
and a decent meal, the Kid's mood was vastly improved and he was  
ready to hit the trail again. It'd take several days' ride to  
reach their new destination.

They waited till they were almost there before stopping off  
to pick up some dynamite. Heyes had figured the best way was to  
blow it.

"Quick and easy. Out in the middle of nowhere we won't have  
to worry about the noise. It'd take me a coupla hours to crack  
that thing dry, and who knows what all that water's done to the  
works."

They were carefully loading the dynamite into their  
saddlebags when the Kid caught sight of her. She was strolling  
down the street acknowledging all the admiring looks and whistles  
like royalty graciously accepting its due. She was a luscious  
vision in lilac from the wispy feather in her bonnet to the tips  
of the boots peeking out from under her ruffled hem. The color  
was a perfect complement to her blond curls. She carried a ball  
of fluff, which on closer inspection was seen to be a little dog  
with a lilac bow tied round its neck.

"Miss Violet Delarue!" the Kid identified her.

"Who?" said Heyes, turning to see the object of all the  
attention heading in their direction.

"You remember, Heyes, when we was up in Washington  
Territory? I told you about her."

"Oh, yeah," Heyes recollected, "she's the one was involved  
in some kind of robbery, almost landed you in jail, too, when you  
just had to stop and help her out."

"I didn't help her with the robbery, Heyes, and she didn't  
know I got in trouble, and o' course I helped her. Heyes, just  
look at her."

"I'm lookin'." So was every other man in town.

As she came past them, Curry stepped forward and tipped his  
hat. "Miss Delarue," he greeted.

She stopped and looked at him with those lovely blue eyes,  
but they held no hint of recognition.

"Thaddeus Jones, ma'am," the Kid prompted. "We met in  
Tacoma--your wagon was stuck in the mud."

Her forehead puckered a moment in thought, she blinked  
(drawing the Kid's attention to her seemingly impossibly long  
lashes), and suddenly exclaimed, "Sir Galahad!" The little dog  
began yapping. "Now, King, you hush," she scolded.

"Sir which?" Heyes disbelievingly asked.

"Er, nevermind that now, it's a long story. Miss Delarue,  
this is my friend, Mr. Joshua Smith," the Kid hurriedly changed  
the subject.

"Why, I'm charmed to meet any friend of Mr. Jones'. Fancy  
running into you again so far from Tacoma." She noticed the  
dynamite and raised her eyebrows (they were of course perfectly  
arched).

The Kid answered her unspoken question. "We're doing a  
little prospecting, ma'am. Thought we might try our luck in the  
hills hereabouts."

"Well, I'm sure I wish you good luck. Perhaps we can get  
together after you get back to town. I really am most grateful  
to you for your gallantry. You helped me out of a tight spot."   
She favored him with a brilliant smile.

"My pleasure, ma'am, and I'd be right pleased to get  
together again, right pleased."

"It's settled then. Well, I won't keep you any longer.   
Nice to have met you, Mr. Smith."

"Ma'am."

"Say goodbye, King." She waved the dog's little paw and  
took her leave.

"Can you believe she named that little fluffball 'King'?"  
Curry mused, looking appreciatively after her departing figure.

"Oh, she seems to have quite a flair for names," Heyes said  
innocently, "Sir Galahad."

Curry turned to his partner. One look told him he was never  
going to hear the end of this.

"Don't start with me, Heyes. It was just some fool female  
fancy."

Oh no. Heyes wasn't going to let him off that easy.

"Whatever you say--your knightship, sir." With an  
exaggerated flourish, he bowed deeply.

Curry sighed. It was going to be a long day.

*****

Heyes strained to see through the murky water. The mountain  
pool had been crystal clear at first, but all their splashing and  
diving had stirred up the mud at the bottom and it was getting  
harder and harder to see. Was that bulky shape solid or just  
more drifting dirt and weeds? If he could just hang on till he  
got closer...but his lungs protested, forcing him to the surface,  
and to air. When he felt he'd breathed in enough of it to manage  
a yell, he looked around. "Hey, Kid, over here! I think I found  
something." Closing his eyes, he floated lazily till his partner  
signaled his arrival by a playful splash in the face.

"This better be it, Heyes. I'm so waterlogged I'm gonna  
grow fins if I don't get back onto dry land soon."

"I dunno, Kid, might be an improvement. Come on, over this  
way."

They dove down to where Heyes had seen the object. He was  
holding his breath, literally, in hopes it would turn out to be  
the safe. They swam in close. A form began to appear, wavy at  
first, then steadying into a box shape. They'd found it!

They surfaced cheering.

"Yee-ha! Heyes, you did it. You found it!"

"I did, didn't I? I love it when a plan comes together.   
Okay, okay, we're not done yet. You go get the rope and I'll  
stay here to mark the spot."

The Kid soon returned with the long rope and they dove back  
down to secure the safe. They waded ashore with the loose end  
which they fastened to their horses. They then urged the animals  
to haul out their sunken treasure.

"Attaboys, pull! Come on, you can do it. A little more, a  
little more, she's out! We did it! Whoa, boys. Good job."

Two steps down. They untied the rope and set about the  
third step.

"You calculate that's enough dynamite, Heyes?"

"Oh yeah, we just want to blow it open, not up. We don't  
want money rainin' down all over, like that time in Porterville."

When all was ready, they crossed their fingers, lit the  
fuse, and scrambled off to a safe distance. They didn't have  
long to wait. There was a small explosion and the door to the  
safe swung gently open.

"Heyes, it's beautiful. You're an artist."

"Thanks. Let's go see the whole picture."

They approached eagerly, waving away lingering traces of  
smoke. They knelt in front of the opening and Heyes reached  
inside.

"Oh, Kid. O-o-o-oh, Kid." When he pulled his hands out,  
they were each holding a stack of crisp, green hundred dollar  
bills.

The Kid reached in and pulled out two more stacks.   
"O-o-o-oh, Heyes," he laughed.

They quickly emptied the safe of its contents.

"I'd say it looks like just about $50,000, Kid. It's all  
here. And not even damp. This baby was airtight." He gave the  
safe a fond pat.

"Heyes? Do we gotta give it all back? Couldn't we just  
keep a little of it? Who would know?"

"Aw, Kid. I expect they keep records of stuff like that.   
We gotta turn all of it in. 'Sides, it wouldn't be right to do  
that to ole Lom, not after all he's done for us."

"I know, you're right, Heyes. I guess I was just back in  
the old days for a minute there."

"Alright, gentlemen, put the cash down and your hands up."

Time froze for one startled instant, and then two heads  
slowly turned to behold the stunning sight of Miss Violet Delarue  
in all her ruffled splendor pointing a very deadly-looking pistol  
straight at them.

"You heard me, Sir Galahad, hands up." She waved the gun at  
them for emphasis.

"Alright, alright, just don't wave that thing around like  
that. It's dangerous," said the Kid.

They dropped the money and rose slowly to their feet, hands  
in the air.

Heyes decided to try a charming approach, a brave tactic  
considering his attire: dripping wet long-johns. He turned on  
his best dimpled smile.

"Miss Delarue, there's no need for firearms here. I'm sure  
we can work something out to our _mutual_ satisfaction."

"King, if they move, bite them."

The little dog at her feet chased his tail madly round in a  
circle a few times and then collapsed, panting and wagging his  
tail.

The Kid, similarly dressed (or undressed) in red flannel in  
contrast to Heyes' white, was feeling extremely silly, and that  
absurd pooch just made the whole situation too ridiculous to  
bear.

"You can't be serious. Miss Violet, why don't you just hand  
over the gun..." and he unwisely took a step forward.

A bullet slammed into the ground near his foot and the  
fluffball jumped up and began to growl.

"Let that be a warning to you, Galahad," Violet purred  
silkily, "King and I may not look terribly serious, but I assure  
you we have teeth."

"Yes, ma'am," the Kid agreed.

"Let's get down to business. Mr. Smith, you may load the  
money into my buggy. Mr. Jones, you tie your horses to the back  
of it."

"Our horses? But..."

"King wouldn't like it if you argued."

They did as they were told. They watched for an opening,  
but she managed to keep the gun trained on them both the whole  
time. Heyes noticed she had already collected their own guns and  
holsters from where they'd left them on the ground with their  
clothes. She was obviously not an amateur--a fact they would  
have done better to have remembered earlier.

"Ma'am, how did you happen to find us?" That was eating at  
Heyes.

"Oh, I followed you from town. On account of the dynamite.   
Call it a hunch, I reckon. You just didn't look like you were  
going off prospecting. So I decided to see what you were really  
up to. You never know what circumstances may turn out to be  
profitable. I've been watching the entire proceeding and I must  
say you handled that safe expertly. I'd say you gentlemen had  
done this before."

"We're not the only ones!" the Kid exploded. "I almost got  
arrested for helping you out before. All we were doing..."

"Miss Delarue," Heyes interrupted him. "Hasn't your  
prospecting story gotten us in enough trouble?" he muttered, then  
resumed his address to the lady. "Of course we've done this  
before. Many times, in fact. You see, we're detectives with the  
George Bannerman Detective Agency. That's right--we're Bannerman  
men. That money is the loot from a train robbery and we aim to  
take it into Porterville to turn it over to the sheriff there."

"I am sorry to interrupt your detecting, but I have my own  
plans for that money. So if you'll just bring me your pants,  
I'll be on my way."

"Huh?" Heyes looked at her as if she'd up and started  
speaking a foreign language.

"Your pants. Oh, you might as well bring the whole bundle  
of clothes while you're at it."

To the Kid it was the last straw. He just couldn't hold his  
tongue any longer. "See here, Violet, taking the money is one  
thing, but horse stealing's a hangin' offense, and taking our  
clothes--well, that's just plum unladylike!"

She looked deeply offended. "Mr. Jones, no one has ever  
accused me of unladylike behavior. I am not a common thief. I  
do require some means of slowing you down, though. I don't care  
to take a chance on lowering my gun in order to tie you up. If I  
simply leave you to walk, you might yet obtain a ride if you meet  
up with someone along the road. However, I believe anyone would  
be reluctant to offer a ride to two strangers who are wearing  
only their, er, unmentionables. Come along, King." She scooped  
him up and climbed into her buggy. "You may keep your boots,"  
she offered generously as they brought her the clothes. "I shall  
leave your horses and belongings at the livery stable in town.   
By the time you walk there I should be well away." She drove  
off, with their horses trotting along behind.

"Kid?"

"Yeah, Heyes?"

"Next time you feel the urge to rescue some female, do me a  
favor and run as hard as you can in the opposite direction."

"I'll try, Heyes. I really will try."

*****

It certainly looked as though Violet had reckoned right.   
That road to town was not well-travelled, but they did encounter  
a couple passersby who kept passing right on by after one haughty  
look.

"What is the world coming to when folks won't even stop to  
help a neighbor in need?"

"Now, Heyes, we don't look exactly reputable." The Kid in  
fact would almost have preferred to go hide in the bushes  
whenever they saw anyone coming, but he stuck gamely by his  
partner.

It was beginning to look as if they would indeed have to  
walk the whole way when they heard a wagon rumbling up behind  
them. They turned to see the driver, a wizened old man, no  
sooner clap eyes on them than he began to cackle. He pulled to a  
stop beside them and the cackle developed into a belly laugh.   
Heyes and Curry just folded their arms and waited patiently for  
the laughter to subside. The old man took out a handkerchief and  
wiped his streaming eyes.

"Hee, hee, hee," he went on, then finally collected enough  
breath to talk, "you fellers sure have got yourselves into a  
pree-dicament, right enough. You do look a purty sight! Hee,  
hee, hee," and he was off again.

Heyes grinned at his partner. "I guess we do at that, old  
timer. It's a right sad tale how we come to be in this fix. We  
sure could use a lift."

"Seein' as how you boys done give me the best laugh I've had  
in days, I'll return the favor and oblige. Climb aboard."

"You don't know how much we appreciate this, friend,"  
thanked the Kid.

"Why don't you tell me your sad story," suggested their  
helpful driver. "It'll while away the ride to town."

"It all started with a woman," began Heyes, settling down to  
spin a tall concoction.

"Hee, sonny, the best ones always do!"

*****

He dropped them off at the livery stable and went on his  
way, still chuckling over Heyes' taradiddle.

"Heyes, how you come up with them whoppers is a marvel to  
behold!" admired the Kid.

"All I want to behold right now is my clothes," answered  
Heyes as they entered the livery a trifle nervously.

The liveryman didn't seem too taken aback when he saw them,  
though. "I think I have what you gents are looking for right  
over here," and he nodded at their horses.

They were never so glad to see two animals in their lives.   
Everything was there: clothes, holsters, _and_ guns.

"Lady who dropped 'em off told me to expect you along to  
pick 'em up. Said you'd take care of the bill, too."

Heyes paused in the act of buttoning his shirt. "I might  
have known she'd stick us with that."

Curry looked up from pulling on his pants. "She kept her  
word and left us our stuff. You can't expect more than that."

"I think you still have a soft spot for her."

"Just trying to be fair. You can take it up with her when  
we find her. We are going to find her, aren't we?"

"Oh, we're going to find her alright. Nobody's going to  
rob Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry and get away with it." He  
jammed his hat on and turned to the liveryman. "This lady didn't  
say where she was going, did she?"

"Can't say. Don't stick my nose in where I ain't gettin'  
paid."

"I guess we're going to have to do our own nose-sticking  
then. We'll leave our horses here for now--be back for 'em  
later."

He strode out of the stable, the Kid hard on his heels.

"Heyes, you goin' anyplace particular, or you just going?"

"She'da wanted the fastest way to go the farthest she could.   
What's that tell you?"

"The train?"

"The train. Gotta be."

They had no trouble "persuading" (via a little judicious  
bribery) the ticket agent into admitting that a lady answering  
Miss Delarue's description had purchased a ticket for a private  
compartment on the very train at that moment sitting in the  
station. San Francisco appeared to be her goal. They had just  
enough time to go do some horse-trading with the liveryman and  
then buy two tickets themselves before the train pulled out.

"She must have counted on being long gone before we ever got  
back to town. Getting that ride was a real stroke of luck."

"And just how are we gonna use that luck, Heyes? I don't  
figure you wanna just bust in and hold her up."

"You don't figure right, Kid. The last thing we want is to  
call any attention to ourselves. No, I'd go with a real simple  
plan here--just lay low and search her compartment and luggage  
when she's not around. It shouldn't be too hard to turn up all  
that cash."

*****

It wasn't hard at all to carry out Heyes' plan, except for  
the turning up the cash part. It didn't seem to be hidden  
anywhere in either her compartment or the baggage car. They even  
expanded their search there to include other people's luggage.   
Nothing.

"Too bad this little fella couldn't talk." The Kid walked  
over to where King was pressed up against the bars of his  
carrying case to watch the goings-on. He reached in and  
scratched the whimpering little dog behind the ears. King  
stopped his crying and licked the Kid's hand. "Oh, you're  
friendlier now that you're locked up, eh? Believe me, I know how  
it feels, but you'll be out soon."

"Since he can't tell us what his lady friend did with the  
money, I'd say we're through in here. No telling where she hid  
it."

"What are we gonna do, Heyes?"

"Just stick with her for now. She has to lead us to it  
sooner or later. I'd just rather it was sooner. Why don't we  
take a break for now, go back to the club car? Maybe a game of  
poker will clear my head so's I can think of something."

The club car was a pretty safe haven for them since ladies  
steered clear of the drinking and gambling there. They joined a  
game and concentrated on poker for awhile. A couple of the  
players were about average, but one was as good as Heyes. The  
challenge was keeping his brain at its sharpest, which was just  
what he needed right then. He was curious about his skilled  
opponent. He was dressed kind of fancy; Heyes wondered if he was  
a professional gambler.

One of the players who'd been losing a lot, mostly to the  
fancy dresser, was also wondering that and more. He started  
wondering out loud if maybe the lucky winner wasn't a little _too_  
lucky.

"I hope you're not implying anything by that, friend, other  
than that I'm simply a better poker player than you are."

"A better cheater, you mean!"

An abrupt silence dropped over the car.

"I could take offense at that, but I can see you've been a  
little too free with your whiskey, so why don't we just say  
goodnight and forget it?" The gambler was staying reasonable,  
trying not to let things get out of hand.

"I don't need no card sharp calling me a drunk."

"You're the one doing any name-calling, mister. Now why  
don't you just go sleep it off so the rest of us can play our  
game in peace?"

"I ain't leavin' without the money you stole off me!" He  
pushed back his chair and started to rise, reaching for his gun.

Before his hand had more than touched it, Kid Curry's gun  
was drawn, cocked, and pointed straight at his heart.

"I wouldn't," Curry warned.

The man gaped at Curry and his gun and then, "You takin'  
that cheater's side?" he blustered.

"Now first," the Kid drawled, "the gentleman wasn't  
cheating. Anyone else at this table thinks so better speak up  
now." No one did. "And second, it's like he said. You're drunk  
and you're bein' a sore loser, so just hightail it out of here  
while you got the chance."

The man looked around and saw he had no support.

"I don't believe you'll get a second chance," Heyes prodded.

Swallowing his anger, the troublemaker slunk off. The show  
was over, so everyone resumed their breathing, talking, drinking,  
and gambling.

The Kid slowly holstered his gun.

"I'd like to thank you for coming to my defense," said the  
beneficiary of the Kid's actions. "Why don't we sit out a hand  
and I'll buy you boys a drink."

"Good idea, I could use one," Heyes agreed.

"Fine." The Kid went along.

"That's quite a fast draw," the stranger remarked once they  
were settled with their drinks.

"Mm, he just can't resist showing off," Heyes noted  
gloomily.

Curry shot him a look but held his tongue.

"I'm Joshua Smith and this is my partner, Thaddeus Jones,"  
Heyes introduced. "Also known as Sir Galahad," he added.

"Joshua, at least he ain't a female."

"Oh, that makes all the difference."

"Mr. Smith, Mr. Jones. Hmm. Well, as my dear old pappy  
used to say, a pair of jacks by any other name still can't beat  
Lady Luck."

Heyes and Curry looked at him for a minute, as if they were  
trying to place something. Then, "We had a grandpa used to say  
stuff kinda like that," Curry recollected.

"There's prob'ly one in every family," Heyes surmised.

"I bet they're each one of a kind, though," the stranger  
smiled. "Names's Maverick, by the way, Bret Maverick."

"Maverick? I've heard of you. No wonder you were winning.   
Sir, it's an honor to play poker with you." Heyes was impressed.   
He didn't impress easily.

"You're not so bad yourself," Maverick returned the  
compliment. "I really owe you two and I always pay my debts. If  
ever you need a favor..."

"Now that you mention it," Heyes wasted no time collecting  
on the offer. "Thaddeus, I think Mr. Maverick might be just the  
one to help us out."

"Joshua, you got an idea."

"Yuh, I just may have. See, Maverick, it all started with a  
woman."

"They generally do somehow," said Bret.

*****

"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but would these be yours?"

Seated in the dining car in solitary contemplation, Violet  
Delarue looked up at the elegant gentleman holding out a pair of  
gloves. "Why...why yes, I believe they are. But where...?"

"I found them in the passageway just outside, ma'am.   
Perhaps you dropped them on your way in?"

"I suppose I must have, though I didn't realize I had them  
with me." Which wasn't surprising, considering he had just  
pinched them from her compartment. "Thank you for returning  
them. Won't you join me for dinner, Mr. ...?"

"Bret Maverick, ma'am. I'd be delighted. And you are?"

"Miss Violet Delarue."

"Charmed to make your acquaintance, Miss Delarue. This is  
turning out to be quite an interesting train trip after all.   
First, all that excitement, and now dining with a lovely lady."

"Thank you, sir, you're most kind. What is the excitement  
that you're referring to?"

"Why, haven't you heard? A couple passengers found fifty  
thousand dollars."

"Fifty thousand...?" She glanced at her gloves as if  
suddenly seeing an explanation for why her belongings were strewn  
about.

"Yes, indeed, isn't it amazing? I hear they're detectives  
of some sort."

"Detec... Excuse me, Mr. Maverick, I'm afraid I've lost my  
appetite." She picked up her gloves and fled the dining car.

*****

She raced into the baggage car and flung herself down before  
King's carrying case. "Hello, baby, so you're still here, are  
you?" She opened the door and lifted him out, gave him a quick  
squeeze and placed him on the floor. "Let's see what else is  
here."

She turned the case over and pressed open a small door  
hidden in the bottom. She reached into the compartment it  
revealed and pulled out a stack of money. Just as puzzlement was  
mingling with her relief, she heard a step behind her. She  
whirled around and looked directly up the barrel of a six-gun.   
Her eyes traced their course upward to identify the unwelcome  
face of Mr. Jones, and close behind him followed his partner and  
Bret Maverick.

"I should have tied you up," she lamented.

"That's a neat little trick." Heyes stepped forward to  
inspect the case and its secret compartment.

"”You _tricked_ me," she accused.

"Appears to me you had it coming." The Kid was unfazed.   
"Is it all there, Joshua?"

"Looks to be."

"King!" She called her pet to her defense.

The little dog trotted up to the Kid and nuzzled him  
affectionately. The Kid stooped down to give him a pat, his gun  
never wavering in its aim.

"Oh, we're real good friends now, King and me. I don't  
think you should expect much help there."

She searched for inspiration. "Mr. Maverick!" she appealed.   
"Are you going to let these men rob me?"

"Now, ma'am, from the story they tell, it was the other way  
around."

"And you believe them?"

"They're pretty convincing. Especially the part where I'm  
welcome to accompany them to Porterville to see them turn over  
the money to the sheriff there, or else telegraph him from the  
next stop if I prefer. Of course, if you'd like to take your  
claim up with the sheriff...no, I didn't think so," he finished,  
as she opened her mouth and then closed it again without a word.

She sat looking up at her three captors, then reached out  
and pulled King into her lap. "What are you going to do with  
me?"

"Do with you?" repeated Heyes blankly. "We're not going to  
do anything with you."

"We're not?" Curry asked, a little mystified.

"We've got what we wanted. We're not lawmen. Our  
assignment was to retrieve this money and we've done that. We  
had a little interference from you along the way and we dealt  
with it. I suppose we _could_ turn you over to the sheriff and  
press charges, but I for one would just as soon not be saddled  
with keeping an eye on you all the way back to Porterville.   
Besides, we're not ones to hold a grudge over someone giving in  
to temptation, just as long as you don't cause us no more  
trouble."

"Yeah, uh, no hard feelings," added the Kid, holstering his  
gun. He reached down a hand to help Violet to her feet.

"I suppose I should thank you, Galahad, but I'm too  
disappointed in you, treating a lady so unchivalrously."

"Especially after the kind way the lady treated me, letting  
me keep my boots and all."

"Kindness is my fatal flaw." She looked so downcast, the  
Kid had a momentary impulse to comfort her. Maverick beat him to  
it.

"Miss Delarue, since you're not being detained, perhaps we  
could resume our interrupted dinner? That is, if you've forgiven  
me my small part in this affair." Bret was never one to let a  
little larceny affect his relationship with a beautiful lady.

"Mr. Maverick, I should be delighted." She went to return  
King to his now entirely empty case.

"We want to thank you for helping us out, Bret. This is  
real important to us," Heyes said.

"Happy I could return your favor. If you boys don't mind a  
little advice, though, get into another line of work. Something  
that agrees with you more. I can usually size up people pretty  
well and, no offense, you two aren't cut out to be detectives."

"Funny, and here I thought we'd finally found our calling,"  
Curry responded dryly.

"Shall we go get that dinner, Mr. Maverick?" Violet glided  
over and took his arm. "I'm beginning to feel faint with  
hunger."

"Miss Delarue, I am at your service. Think about what I  
said, boys. It's never too late for a change."

Heyes grinned. "Sound advice. We'll give it some thought."

"Well, that's fine." Maverick and Violet departed.

"I sure am grateful we ran into him," the Kid commented.

Heyes agreed. "We were lucky to get someone Violet didn't  
know to help us out."

"I was thinking more in terms of his taking that she-devil  
off our hands."

"You're just sore because Miss Violet thinks Galahad's armor  
got a little tarnished."

"You know, Heyes," Curry favored his partner with a  
measuring look, "someday that silver tongue of yours is going to  
get you a little tarnished."

"Careful, Kid. In a battle of words, I got you outgunned."

"Uh-huh. Let's change the subject then. We get off at the  
next stop?"

"Right, and head straight for Porterville with the money.   
The rest is up to Lom. And the governor, of course."

*****

The governor of course was the hitch. As usual. He just  
wasn't playing his role according to plan.

"Boys, the governor was as thrilled to get that money back  
as I was. And when the time comes for him to propose your  
amnesty, that'll go a long way toward persuadin' people that it's  
the right thing to do."

"But, Lom, we was kind of hoping he'd do the right thing  
 _now_."

"Sorry, Kid, this just isn't the right time for him. You'll  
just have to be patient a while longer. Trust me, though, this  
wasn't for nothing. It _will_ help your case."

"Thanks, Lom," Heyes sighed. "We appreciate your efforts  
anyway. We'll just keep waiting. We been doing a lot of that,  
we're gettin' the hang of it." He tried his best to be  
philosophical about their disappointment.

"Glad you're taking it so well. Now, you rushed me off to  
the capital so fast I never did have a chance to hear the whole  
story. What do you say I buy you a couple of beers and you tell  
me all about it?"

"You're on," Heyes accepted the offer.

They walked over to the saloon and were soon comfortably  
seated round a quiet corner table.

"Now how about that story?" requested Lom.

Heyes considered his beer, took a sip to fortify himself,  
and then observed, "It all started with a woman."

THE END


End file.
